Dirty Tricks
by unfortunate star
Summary: [COMPLETE] Clubbing was not one thing she liked, but when her friends drag her along to a club ... her future life is out to catch her. FM ship. Slight twist in the entire plot. Lots of foreshadowing goodness.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing! Well, except the plot.

**Summary:** Clubbing was not one thing she liked, but when her friends drag her along to a clubher future life is out to catch her. F/M ship. Slight twist in the entire plot. Lots of foreshadowing goodness.

**Rating: **Nothing a tween couldn't handle. Some rude classifications to people, but it's alright. You know you've all heard them.

**Note:** Names do not come until later in the story, so if this is hard to read to you, good luck. D The plot is twisted, and there is lots of foreshadowing. Teehee.

**Dirty Tricks**

* * *

His seemingly cold eyes scanned the dance floor, but what for; to capture some unknowing beauty to classify her as a whore in a night? Oh, indeed, yes, yes, his dirty tricks! The poor girls, if only they knew his reputation, if only…

But some of the pathetic dancing prostitutes moved out of the way, and his eyes fell upon a girl sitting, as if she wasn't enjoying herself. Her face showed her lack of enthusiasm to be having fun—but what a great catch she'd be. Her fun would be turned around with a snap, if only he could catch her.

Standing, evading some approaching girls, he turned and smiled to a few of his stupid Muggle acquaintances—friends? As if he'd make friends with the stupid creatures—but he waved to them, showing he'd be back. Stepping onto the dance floor, lights turned on the square where he stood. The first time he'd been here, the dance floor had made him jump, and it scared him out of his mind, but now he was used to it. It was specially made for this club, touch sensitive, lighting up when it felt pressure upon it.

He left a trail of different colored lights behind him, as he moved (I wouldn't say walking) his way across the floor, to head towards his prey—but she wasn't there. Thank the stars the bar was over here, or he'd feel completely stupid. So instead of catching his prey, he went to buy a drink. But still? He felt awkward—where had such a good girl disappeared too? His eyes scanned the dance crowd—well she wasn't there, and why would she have moved to another seat? Curses if she had left, already! But where? ...

There was no use being where he was, anymore, and he really didn't feel like being around these stupid Muggle's anymore. The upper floor! That is where he'd go, it was less noisy and flashy, and then he could rest out on the balcony. But as he walked up the staircase (which he had trouble, with all the clothing—and people—lying about), another awkward feeling came over him. Seeing these people gave him a disgusted feeling—couldn't they do things like they were doing elsewhere? His body shivered, as he landed onto the upper floor.

Since that scene, he felt like going home, and he was about to Apparate out of there, when something, out of the corner of his eye, caught his attention. The girl…

"Well, well, well," he muttered, perking a brow and smirking. She was standing out on the balcony—noticing that she was alone, and frankly, there was no one up here either. Smoothly, he placed his hands in his pockets and strode out and rested his back against the railing, which she was leaning against, looking forwards. But he looked back at the club, his smirk turning into a smile. He turned his head to look at her, and she was frowning—no wonder. His forward actions usually turned the meek ones off, until they got to know him.

"Having fun?" he joked.

She didn't look at him, but her face etched into more of a frown. "Does it look like it? Why aren't you down there enjoying yourself?"

Shrugging, he wondered for a moment—not revealing the real reason, "I was bored, tired of looking at those sluts."

Finally she looked at him, her brown curls falling into her face. She studied him for a moment, he doing the same. Both opened their mouths at the same time, but neither spoke. "Odd, I was too. I'm not having any fun—I'm not the clubbing type," she replied, looking away again.

"Then why are you here?"

"Uh…" her brow furrowed. "Well, my friends dragged me along."

"I ask again, if you are not having any fun; why are you still here?"

Laughing, she shrugged. "I never even thought of going home—err—but I can't. My friends drove—and…I live…further away, and I don't want to return to our hotel."

"Mm, I see." Turning, so he was also leaning against the railing on his arms, instead of his back (which also meant he was closer to her), he glanced her up and down. Her attire for the night (which, by the looks of it, wasn't hers) was a mid thigh, black, silky looking skirt; her shirt was a blood red tank top, with a black fish net cover; and mid-calf black boots. Her skin was slightly tanned, and her hair was brown and curly; her eyes were brown. While he 'checked her out,' he knew she was doing the same.

But he smirked, there was barely anything to his outfit. Black slacks, a green and silver ripped-in-certain-places shirt, and black shoes. His hair was his feature of anything—aside from his silvery orbs of coldness—it was just two inches past his jaw line, flowing freely. It was combed nicely, not just a messy head, but it looked gorgeous to the girls—blonde, a striking blonde head of silky, just-two-inches-past-the-jaw-line hair.

It was his looks that mostly got the girls, that and his fake, sweet actions, but those didn't come until he was certain or not if he wanted to shag the slut. But this girl—the one he spoke to now—would be an entirely different case.

"So," he pondered. "What's a good-looking girl like you doing all alone?"

She threw him a glance, slightly bewildered. "I told you, I'm not the clubbing type—I don't like this music, I can't stand the way these people dance. Don't be so bold, either! You are not going to get up my skirt."

He laughed, making her blush, "Me? Why would I want to get up your skirt? I was just making friendly conversation."

"Ooh!" she hid her face in her hands. "Now I feel like a fool. Forgive me for making a wrong accusation."

Shaking his head, with a smirk on his face, "No apology is necessary. It was just a mistake."

"A mistake! Why I… me, a mistake? No, it was a wrong accusation."

"I rightly declare it a mistake—an asinine one at that."

"What?" she exclaimed.

"Asinine means-"

"I know what asinine means, but you don't have to make fun of me!" she huffed, standing her ground.

"I'm not making fun of you," he laughed.

"Well it seemed like you were!"

"But I'm not," he said sincerely.

"Fine!"

They both laughed—her more of a giggle—for a moment, before he quietly said; "You are quite the remarkable girl. Any of the other girls I've ever talked to would have gone quiet and never stood her ground—except for maybe one. But I haven't seen her in years, and we weren't the best of friends." He chuckled, recalling a girl from his past school years.

"Oh? What was she? A pretty girl who could catch any guys eye—or" she giggled, "A book worm?"

"The latter, but she was quite a pretty girl when she wanted to be. Like at one of our school dances, she was with this Qui— this sport player and she was so pretty—even I felt jealous of the guy. I think every boy there was jealous of some sort—even the girls. Because this guy was a very famous sport player. But, damn it; I was a jerk to everyone at school—and especially to her."

Watching carefully, he could tell she had tilted her head upwards slightly, watching him out of the corner of her eye. "Oh," was all she replied before a loud pop sounded and the two looked at a new person standing in between them—facing the girl.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I own the plot, that is it. And since that is all there is at the moment, since no specific characters have been mentionedit's all mine! Mwahaha. I didn't realize this before, I was just too excited to put my story up.

**Note:** As I just mentioned, no specific names are mentioned yet, so it's still tricky to readnames don't appear until later in the story. But it's still all nice plot twisting, foreshadowing goodness!

**Dirty Tricks**

* * *

"There you are!" they exclaimed, but the girl whom he had been talking too—her eyes were wide and scared, staring at him. This made the newer person turn around—it was a girl with bright red hair. "Oh, stars!" she exclaimed. "Oh! Oh!" was all she could say.

The two girls were freaking out, crying, "Oh please don't say anything, you didn't see anything!" while he looked blankly at them. It took them a moment to realize he wasn't freaking out, but he was still there, content, staring at them like they were crazy—like this was normal for him.

"Um…" the girl who had just appeared said after a moment. "Well…"

"Could you be any more conspicuous!" the brown-haired, brown-eyed beauty cried out, which made the red-head to turn back around.

"I'm sorry! I thought you'd be alone, like you said you would be!"

"But I'm not!"

They were both interrupted by laughter, small, but still there. They both turned and looked at him. "Girls, girls, calm down, it's quite alright—you see"

But he never got to finish his sentence, for at that exact moment a giggling group of sluts were coming up the stairs not to far away from where the three stood. The red-head stared at the brown-eyed girl. "We've got to go, now," she said demandingly.

"But! I was just talking with—"

"I don't care, we've got to go."

"How about I come along? Goodness knows; girls like you shouldn't be out alone. I could accompany you back to where you're lodging."

The brown-eyed and red-head stared at each other for a moment, an unspoken agreement between them. "Fine, but no where else beyond the door," the one uttered, and the girl smiled. "We have to go, now! The rest are waiting for us."

The two girls headed off past the group, down the stairs, and he followed. They lead him out of the club, into the night, where two or three girls were waiting for them—they all stared questioningly at the new escort. "Girls, don't fret. This gentleman is just going to be with us until we get back to the hotel," the brown haired girl spoke.

He looked at her quickly, then to the rest and nodded in hello, they all nodded back. But as soon as they started walking, the red-head in the lead, the two fell back at the end. They walked in silence for a long time, until she spoke up and asked him: "So what were you saying, before we left?"

"Oh…" he thought, "Nothing."

Another long pause as they walked closer to the hotel; "I do hope that did not freak you out."

"You may rest now to know it did not one bit."

"But why? Usually… people do freak out."

"But we're not ordinary people, are we?" he smirked.

"We…?" they was a click and a door opened. They hadn't seen that they were already at the hotel, and at the girl's rooms.

"Another day I'll tell you."

"But I won't be here, long."

"Neither will I," he replied.

"Will I see you again?"

He smirked, "Only time will tell."

She smiled; sadness was keen in her eyes, "Good-night and thank you."

Saying nothing more, he swept into a slight bow as the red-head appeared, and shut the door—leaving the brown-eyes filled with sadness. But she would not cry.

Neither would he; no, he would laugh.

And he did, as he walked out of the hotel. Standing there, alone on the side walk, with his hands in his pockets, he left there—he would be back—someday, someday when the two would meet once more in this city.

But for now, his horrid reputation, his past, and his name were still hidden from the girl which he had caught. No—not a whore; a bookworm, an innocent, intelligent, beautiful girl. But, he claimed her as his own. If he knew girls, she would try and remain free to see him again. But what a hassle that would be—neither had spoken their names. It was if…. As if they knew each other, already. But, if only, if only someone had spoken up.


	3. Chapter 3

**Note:** It's in 'her' Point of View now, not 'his' anymore.

* * *

Nightmares from years ago still came to her mind, things she wished she could forget, but never could they disappear. The taunting, teasing, embarrassing moments that were inflicted upon her by school mates. But she had always been strong, mostly—sometimes she would break under their pressure. But never, ever would she let anyone know! Not even her dearest friends—which that upset them at some times.

She sat silent at the window. It was raining now, just twenty-four hours after she had met that guy. Her thoughts were preoccupied now, but the thoughts and dreams of long ago school days still plagued her. They were sometimes mixed into one; often would they confuse her, turning out completely different than what happened.

"Stop brooding, he was just another man-whore. Enjoy yourself while we are here!" one of her friends tried suggesting, to get her to not think of him anymore. She didn't even know his name!

But how could she forget him?—those eyes, that voice! It was… well, it would make any weaker girl melt. But, she was not weak…

It was painful for her, as they continued going to clubs. A different club each night, never did they return to the one where she had been days ago. She was always asked to dance, by some pretty good-looking guys, too, but she always kindly refused. Hoping that he would show up at some club or bar, she was joyful to go each time, but dying with no hope left after a night.

His remarks toward her, they made her comfortably embarrassed, enjoyable to be around—even if just for a short time.

Damn it that she hadn't asked his name!

-&-

"Wake up, sleepy head!" someone was speaking into her ear, as she turned onto her back and groaned.

"Let me sleep…" she grumbled, putting the back of her hand up to her eyes, blocking out the lights.

"No! You were up all night, again! You need to stop that bad sleeping habit. You've been like this ever since we returned from our vacation."

"I can't help it," the sleepy brown eyes stared at the bright blue eyes beside her bed.

"Yes you can. Now get up! We have a lot to do today," as this same red-headed girl left the room, the brown eyed/brown haired girl sat up in her bed.

Ever since the vacation, she could rarely stop thinking about what had all happened on the trip. It was more than that guy, now. It was more the dread of returning home and facing her regular life. Sitting on the edge of her bed, she stared at her socked feet; sighing heavily. She slipped her robe on, as she stood, and headed downstairs.

Stepping into the kitchen of the house of her friends, she yawned, covering her mouth with her hand. Also, she had been staying at her friends since their return. Her parents had gone vacationing and were still doing so. So, thus being her 'second home,' she always felt welcome in her friend's, large family's home.

"Finally you are awake, good morning!" the cheery mother of the children spoke, smiling at her. "Would you like some breakfast?"

"Good-morning. Just some toast and a cup of orange juice, thank you," as she took a seat at the sturdy, yet rickety table beside her busy companions.

Her toast and juice were in front of her in moments, with side dishes of butter, different types of jam, and in case, cinnamon. But for a moment, she didn't touch it, until her stomach gave a lurch from the smell of the food, and unwillingly, she spread butter onto the toast.

Eating a piece in silence, she was about to pick up the second when her stomach gave another lurch. "Oh," she cried silently. "Excuse me," she stood and practically climbed over chairs and people's legs as she ran for the bathroom. The door flew open before she reached the room, and a boy stepped out, but seeing her hurry, stepped out of the way to let her pass. Rushing for the toilet, she vomited, crying. Someone was pulling her hair back, soothing her—but awkwardly. But being too weak to even turn to find out who it was, she retched once again into the toilet.

-&-

"It was so sudden, I had no idea. I knew she wasn't sleeping easily since her return, but is she sick?"

There were voices around her aching head, as the blackness which had enveloped her began to disappear. She knew they didn't mean sick as in a cold. They meant bulimic.

"No I do not think so. Just the sleeping—" a manly voice replied, but was interrupted.

A groan escaped her lips, and the voices immediately stopped. "My head…" squinting, she placed a hand over her eyes.

"Dear! Are you alright? What happened?"

"Now, now, my dear, don't go rushing into questions. It might upset her again," the masculine voice reprimanded the first voice.

A strange hand was feeling her forehead and cheeks, then her palms. "She is quite alright. The uneasy sleep might have brought this on, if she is not used to it," the voice trailed off.

"Thank you again for coming so quick, we just didn't want to move her."

"Quite alright, the hospital always has willing Healer's at the ready to assist in house-calls." There was a shuffle of feet, an unclasping of a bag, and a twinkle of glass. "In any case, give this potion to her when she fully awakes here in a few moments, and make sure she takes it every time before she falls asleep. The one after she wakes now will make her fall asleep. It helps with sleeping. But whatever you do, and tell her parents this, too, make sure she takes it before bed for at least a month—it should last that long. If she doesn't take it, it will have very bad side effects. Bad mood swings, raging hormones, no sleep, and then the vomiting will happen again."

"Yes, of course! Thank you so much, again."

"Anytime, but I've got to get going now. Another call to attend to!" the Healer Disapparated with a small pop, then a shifting of a woman's weight as it kneeled down beside whatever she lay upon. She was there for a few moments, before the girl's conscious was fully aware of everything again. "Sweetie? You awake, now?" and she nodded, "Okay, take this. It'll help you sleep." She nodded again, as a glass vile was pressed to her lips, and the smallest amount of liquid was poured onto her tongue. It was warm, a comfortable warm. Instantly, she felt drowsy again, as she fought to stay awake.

"No, babe, just sleep," the voice sounded distant as the potion claimed her, and she fell into a dreamless sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

There isn't a need for any notes, right now, except that it is still in, and will remain in 'her' Point of View. Sorry for the late update, I got my computer cleared.

**Dirty Tricks**

* * *

A slight buzzing sound reached her ears, rousing her from her dreamless sleep. What was that buzzing? She lifted her hand to a temple and rubbed it, squinting her eyes against the light around her.

A boy's voice, not yet grown into a man, sounded, "Are you awake?"

"Yes," she replied softly. "But my head, it hurts still. And there is a buzzing sound… ugh."

Instantly the buzzing ended when she said that, "Sorry about that. Do you want me to turn the lights down?"

"Please do," she said while pushing herself up. As she looked at her surroundings, she noticed she was on a bed. Not the bed she usually slept in, but one covered in bright orange blankets with CC printed on them. The boy was standing, turning down the lights. "Thank you," she said when they were down to what was comfortable.

"You're welcome," he sat down in a chair beside his bed. "Uh," he blushed slightly, looking down. "Mum decided to put you up here, it's less noisy, except for the ghost in the attic, but that would be less noisy than what has been going on downstairs."

"I'm sorry, what's been going on? And… how long have I slept?"

"Well, you've slept for about a day, now," and he replied quickly, seeing the horrified look on her face, "Don't worry! We asked the Healer if this was normal, and he said it was. You shouldn't sleep this long anymore. It was just the first dose. But, what's been going on downstairs…" he sighed, "Mum's been so worried about you, so when the twin's showed up, setting off some of their jokes, she was all in frenzy. It wasn't a pretty sight."

Smiling, she looked up at the ceiling. "Heh, it's my entire fault. Tell her I'm sorry."

A voice sounded in the door, "There is no need, sweetie." She came into the room, setting down some clean clothes on a dresser. Turning to her youngest son, she said, "Go on downstairs, and get something to eat." So he left, and she took the seat in which he had sat. Taking her hand, "Honey, I just met with your parents a little bit ago, and, I suggested to them, and they agree, that you take another nice, long vacation. But no clubbing, no anything. Just so you can relax. Do you think you are up for it?"

The chance of seeing that guy again sparked her interest, and, selfishly, she thought she needed another resting vacation. "I will. But where will I go, and will anyone go with me?"

"You will go back to the same place as last time, and your parents suggested I let you pick two people to go with you. You'll be leaving in six days, too, so, if you can, I suggest you start packing. But who would you like to take with you?"

She told who she wanted to come; her two best friends—of course. They would give her space when she needed it, she'd have a room to herself (because she doubted anyone would let her stay in the same room with two boys), and she would be protected. The lady helped her out of bed and to her friend's room where she had been staying, but once there, she was left alone to pack.

-&-

All three people's things were packed in their trunks and suitcases; they were being loaded into the taxi that would take them to their destination. It felt like going back to school, again. Once everything was packed in, all the hugs and 'see you later's' had been done and said; the three piled into the car and off they went.

"So, what are your plans?" the boy with emerald eyes asked.

"To relax, of course," but she did not reveal her second plan was to find that boy. If he would be there… he said he wouldn't be there for awhile, either. Oh no! Please; Merlin, let him be there! "Well, yes, to relax. Maybe do a bit of shopping this time," she giggled while the two boys groaned. "And yes, you both have to come with me."

The ride was of random chit-chat from there on, until they got into town, which was a long way, actually. They reached their hotel, unloaded their things, and paid their fair. "Thank you for the ride!" she called as the taxi driver waved them off and started pulling away. Their trunks and suitcases were being loaded onto a pulley, as it was taken upstairs. The three followed, and were lead to each of their rooms. And yes, she did have her own room.

As she entered, collapsing on her bed, she picked up the telephone on her nightstand, calling the room next door. "Boys?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, good-night. It's been a long day; I'm going to rest now."

She heard a voice in the background, "Is that her? Take your medicine!" they reminded.

"I shall, thank you and good-night."

"'Night."

She heard the receiver click just before she set hers down. For a moment, she didn't get up. She really did not want to dig through her things and retrieve the potion—but she had too, that would be better than getting sick again. So getting up, she crossed to where her luggage had been laid, and started going through it, also pulling out her pajamas, toothbrush, and toothpaste. First, she changed, then brushed her teeth, and then stared at the vile for a moment before slipping a drop or two onto her tongue. The affects didn't take hold as fast anymore, so she set it down and slipped over to her bed. Getting under the covers, it started to kick in, as she slipped off into sleep.

-&-

The phone rang and awoke her from her sleep. Picking it up, she placed it on her pillow next to her ear, and in a raspy voice questioned; "Hello?"

"Hey, we're going to get some breakfast. Want to go with us?"

"I suppose."

"Well get up and get ready! You'll get a knock on your door in fifteen minutes."

The thought of not taking a shower was kind of gross, but she said okay and hung the receiver up. Kicking the blankets off her, she got up and stretched. Glancing over at her things, she sighed. "I should have unpacked already," muttering, she bent down over her things and found an outfit for today.

After washing up and dressing, she tamed her hair and applied her basic make-up. Her outfit consisted of a sea-blue skirt and jacket with a white oxford shirt underneath. The skirt was about knee length, and she wore silver high heels. Her make-up was just ordinary foundation with a hint of a blush, mascara and some eye-liner, with lip-gloss. Checking herself over in the mirror, there was a knock on her door.

"It's unlocked, come in," she called.

"You…" the voice stopped. She had appeared in their sight and caught them off guard.

"Wow, you look pretty today."

She blushed, pulling her hair back at the nape of her neck with a hair clip. "Thank you. Where are we going?" she asked as she grabbed her purse and card key for the door.

"Well," they said, as she shut her door and followed them. "I was thinking this restaurant down on Main. I heard it's quite good."

"Okay then," as she slipped her key into her purse, and then slung it over her shoulder.

In silence they walked, for it wasn't very far, until they reached the restaurant. It was a busy coffee shop that also served food. The smell of cappuccino and coffee met them and put smiles on their faces. "Well it smells quite lovely," as they set themselves at a table beside the window.

"What would you all prefer?" asked the waiter.

The girl spoke first, "Just a caramel macchiato, thanks."

The waiter turned to the boys, "A latte with sugar." And the other one replied, "Just coffee with crème and sugar, please." The waiter nodded and headed off to place the order.

People were leaving and coming out, as the little bell on the door rang. It wasn't irritating, but it bothered the girl. "That potion is going to kill me. I'm having headaches all the time."

"You are probably just stressing. Try and relax, that is what you are here for, right?"

"Yeah… maybe it's just a side effect, since it was so sudden. Maybe it has nothing to do with it?"

The boys shrugged, "Could be."

In minutes there drinks had come, as they fixed them to their liking. The girl stirred at hers for a little bit, then took a sip. "Mm, today I want to—" she was about to say "sight see" when something caught her eye. There was someone, someone standing on the street corner across the restaurant—with striking blonde hair. She stood up, pushing her chair back, with her hands clenched on the table. But no—she couldn't rush off and leave her friends. It couldn't have been him, anyway. He looked too different… maybe.

She sat back down, "Sorry." As they gave her quizzical looks, she continued, "As I was saying, I'd like to sight see, today."

"But didn't you sight see when you were here the first time?"

"Yes."

"Then why do you want to go again?"

"Because I didn't have fun last time," she replied.

"But you were with my sister and your girl friends," the red-head replied.

"I know, they are sweet girls, but I'd like to sight see and show you two what I saw."

"Whatever you say, this is your vacation, you know."

"I know," she smiled.

They finished up their drinks, paid for them, and left. But the whole time, as they left the café, she searched for that boy. Sometime, she knew she'd see him. It was just in her, he was here. He just had to be. … "I'm going crazy over him—why? Why do I have this… this passion to find him?" she asked herself silently as the three of them continued down the block.

"Hey watch where you are going!" a rude, grubby, masculine voice yelled.

"Sorry!" she called, as she was ripped from her thoughts, and hurried to catch up with her friends. Her headache intensified from there, as they sought out what she told them they were going too. They went into museum's (for her enjoyment), to architectural buildings, sight seeing what she had already, and what she hadn't. Their day was busy, active, too.

So, at nine p.m., when they returned to their hotel (her feet cramping horribly), she slipped into her room, took her shoes off, changed into pajamas, brushed her teeth, brushed her hair, and clutched her vile into her hand and slipped under her covers. Laying there for minutes, she stared at the substance inside. If she took it, she'd know she'd have a headache tomorrow. But if she didn't take it, what would happen? Surely she wouldn't get sick? She took it that night, just in case, and slipped off to sleep, after placing the vile on the bedside table.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing! Well, except the plot, and these ahem, names that appear in this chapter. 

**Note:** I'm sorry I haven't updated in a long time. I was caught up in school. But now I'm out for the summer, and I should update more.

**Dirty Tricks**

* * *

This morning, she could get up on her own accord. There was no call, no buzz, no anything, just waking herself once the potion let her. When she did wake, but lay still in her bed, she glanced at the digital clock; 9:30 it shone. Groaning, realizing she had slept for twelve hours, she sat up.

There was no call from the boys, they didn't answer when she called them, nor did they answer their door. Once she pounded on the door, from hearing snoring inside, the boy with emerald eyes and tousled raven black hair answered the door. His eyes were blood-shot and he looked like he had a hang-over or was still drunk. "Oh for Merlin's sake!" she cried quietly. "Did you two go clubbing last night?"

He nodded, having too much of a headache to say anything. "Ugh!" she replied, walking away. "We weren't supposed to go clubbing!" stomping into her room, angrily. Since the two boys were going to be sleeping all day, she knew, she'd just go out without them. Shopping—that is what she'd do! But she shook with anger at them—how could they!

First, she unpacked all her things (she still hadn't done so), laid out her clothes for today, and went to turn the hot water on in the shower. Since it was already getting late in the morning, she hurried in her shower. Stepping out, she wrapped her towel around her and secured it, while blow drying her hair. It wasn't an easy job drying her hair, being it so curly. But she did, it taking her about forty-five minutes, and then dressed into tan skirt to the knees, a black turtle neck, and black boots, slipping her brown over coat on. She applied her make-up, grabbed her purse, slipped a note under the boy's door that read "Out shopping, see you two later," and left.

Once outside, she really didn't know where to go. Knowing there were some shops back on Main where the coffee shop was, she headed there first. The stores were expensive Muggle clothing—but they were quite nice. If she recalled, her mother shopped around here when her parents went into town. But since she never came with them, she did not truly recall. Stopping into each and every store, buying select things, she'd hold them up to her. One store in particular had a platform where you could see yourself from different angles. Selecting some different clothing, she held up a red dress to herself, when someone behind her spoke.

"That would look horrid on you. Red's not your color."

She gasped, dropping the dress, as she saw someone standing behind her in the mirror—him! Quickly, she turned around and stepped off the platform. "Oh it's nice to see you again!"

He smirked, "Same to you." He bent over and picked the dress up, holding it at arms length. "How could you even like this? It's ridiculous."

A light tint came over her face, "Oh, well, I just grabbed some clothes…"

"And by the way," he perked a brow at her, after hanging the dress on a hanging rack. "I thought you wouldn't be here long? It's been over a week since I last saw you."

"Uh…I did leave, but, something came up and my parents and my friend's mother suggested I take a different vacation. And I'm strictly on a no clubbing rule. I'm here to relax this time."

"What came up?"

She gulped, her head pounding, "I was sick, horribly sick. They gave me this potion—err—medicine to help me sleep. I … I had a bad sleeping habit ever since I returned, and I got sick from it. The medicine gives me dreamless sleep, but then again, it gives me a horrible headache during the day."

His eye brow stayed perked. "No one enjoys headaches. Why do you continue taking it? This was over a week ago, and you've been on that medicine for long enough. Tonight, do not take it."

"But, what if I get sick…"

"Then you take it as fast as you can and sleep."

"Alright, I'll try it," she replied, picking up the clothes she decided not to try on.

"Now that that is settled, put those away and come with me."

"What?" she glanced at him, narrowing her eyebrows.

"I said put those away and come with me, you'll see." She obeyed his orders and followed him out of the store. He lead her away from the main shops, to a store that stood three floors high that was professional and expensive dining outfits—such as ball dresses, expensive dinner gowns. But they were such beautiful dresses!

"_This_," he motioned to the store, "Is where the best shop."

"Oh but I could never afford one thing out of this store," she muttered glancing around at the clothing.

"That is why I brought you here. Even though it is a dirty Muggle store, they have quite some extraordinary clothing—"

"Did you just say Muggle?" she whispered to him.

"Why yes I did, now come along and pick some things out. We don't have all day."

"How can you afford such things? Don't famous people shop here?"

He stopped, turning towards her. "Yes, they do. So do you wealthy people."

Blinking, she thought a moment. "You seriously are going to pay for anything I want?"

Now he smirked, "As long as you hold up your end of a bargain."

"What bargain?"

"The bargain I haven't told you about yet."

"I won't touch one thing unless you tell me what it is."

"Then you won't get one thing."

Setting her jaw, she crossed her arms. "What's the bargain?"

Jokingly he laughed, "Attend a formal dinner and ball with me, and you can get anything you want."

"What!" she gaped. "But I barely know you."

"Correction, you don't know me at all. But I want you to attend it with me."

"But…"

"Would you, if you knew who I was?"

Staring blankly at him, she blinked a couple times. "Well… I suppose," she glanced at the dresses. "But what for? Don't you have a girl to take?"

"If you go with me, then I will, but if you mean such as a girlfriend, or a fiancée, or even a wife—no. I'm single, and have been since I left school."

"A handsome guy like you?" she laughed.

Perking a brow, he smirked, "It's quite scandalous to know you think I'm handsome."

"Oh!" she cried, burying her face in her hands.

"Don't be so shy and embarrassed," he took her hands away from her face, and held them in his own. "But will you attend with me?"

"I don't even know your name."

"I myself am Darian … Darian Malton," he said, "And you are?"

She hesitated. The name sounded so false, could she trust him? "I'm Hannah Grayham," she replied, looking away.

He smirked, seeing right through her, "Well, Miss Grayham, would you attend this dinner and ball with me?"

She sighed, giving in. "Yes, I will."

Dropping her hands, he turned and motioned his hand to the dresses. "Now, go and hunt whatever you'd like."

Squealing like a little school girl, she rushed off between clothing, eyeing quickly things she liked or didn't and grabbed them. He followed at a slower pace, holding the clothing she picked. But once in awhile, she would pick things that he utterly refused to buy, and quickly stuck them on the racks again. Once she got through half the store, he pointed out that she had better try the ones she had picked out already first.

"Right," she said, kind of not paying attention.

"I said you should try these on, now," grabbing her arm, and pulling her towards the dressing rooms.

"Oh but!" as he lead her into one, hung the dresses and outfits up on the hooks, and stepped out.

"Try that blue one on first," he said lazily, leaning against the wall opposite the room she was in. He heard the noise of clothing against clothing and could tell she was changing now. There was a slight glow from inside, and he smirked. She was cheating—how wonderful. After a few moments the door clicked and she stepped out in the blue dress.

"Turn about," he ordered, and she did. "Hmm…" smirking, "It shows off your figure quite nicely. But since it's just plain silk, you can see your underwear line," which made her turn around quickly to face him, "But I think it's quite nice."

"I'm not buying anything that shows my panty line!"

"But you aren't buying it, go on try on another."

She went back into the changing room, changed, was examined, went back in, changed, was examined, back in, change, examine, change, change, change—oh it was tiresome. She went through the first stack, found some more, went through all of them, and was about to give up when he handed her some more dresses. "Just try these," he suggested, and so she did. None of the dresses suited her, but she tried on the last one anyway. It was a silk, dark green evening gown. At the chest it gathered into a V shape, and so did it at the lower back. The hem was a fishtail hem, and was longer in the back.

Stepping out of the changing room, with a glum look on her face, she noticed his reaction quite quickly. He had straightened, eyeing her with a hunger. She did not like that feeling, as she felt small goose bumps start to form on the back of her neck, she turned back into the changing room.

"Wait!" he called quietly. "Come back out here."

Hesitant at first, she stepped out again. Standing there before him, she eyed him—that look was gone, it was the same face he had used for the other dresses. Maybe she had imagined it or not.

"Why are you afraid?"

This startled her, she didn't see that coming. "I… I thought I saw something," she lied.

She knew he didn't believe her, but he did not say anything more about it. "Do you like this one?"

"I love this one, actually."

"It's quite becoming on you, do you want this one?"

"Oh yes, please!"

"Well hurry up, change back into your clothing and we'll go finish up."

She smiled and turned back into the dressing room—but not before seeing something in his face. Why did it seem familiar… shrugging it off, she closed the door and slipped out of the dress into her clothes.


	6. Chapter 6

Mwahaha! I actually own this, you know. This has nothing to do with Hogwarts or anything related at the moment.. just the people, WHO ARE NAMED DARIAN AND HANNAH. insert evil laugh here

thanks for the reviews, by the way.

* * *

As Darian Malton promised, he bought the dress, new black high heels, and accessories to match. And she barely new this man! After they had gone shopping, he showed her a different restaurant—a much nicer one, an expensive one at that.

"I like to spoil pretty girls," was his reply when she asked why he was doing this.

"That makes you sound like a man-whore."

"I know, but I do not let what others think of me bother me too much."

"What a horrid thing to say! How can you not care? I just called you a man-whore, or implied it so, and you do not care. And you expect me to go to this dinner and ball with you?"

"But we made the deal, you are going."

"I don't have to, if I don't want to."

"You are such a child," he laughed.

"Stop it, I am not!"

"But you are!"

He was right, what she had said sounded so childish, it embarrassed her. "I hate it when others are right," she pouted.

He turned his head so fast to face her, she thought she heard a pop in it, but he didn't move. "What did you just say?"

"I said, 'I hate it when others are right.'"

His eyes narrowed, searching her eyes. "Oh…" he looked away. Neither said a word as they sipped on their drinks. The night progressed on, as the two sat there alone in that fancy restaurant.

"So when is this dinner and ball?"

"In two days."

"Two days!"

"Yes, two days. You will still be here, correct?"

"Yes, of course I will. But it's such short notice. I wonder what my friends would think…"

"Friends? Hopefully not the same babbling brats as before?"

"Excuse you, those 'babbling brats' are quite nice. But no, these two are entirely different. They have been my friends since my school years. They are both boys, too."

"And I bet you've never kissed either one of them," he laughed.

"That is none of your business!"

He leaned his elbows against the table, smirking at her. "So? I was only joking with you, Grayham-- _Miss_ Grayham."

Sighing, she finished up her drink, and he did too. "I should be going," she muttered. "It's getting late."

"Do come have some fun with me before hand."

"I won't go clubbing."

"I never said one thing about clubbing."

"Then what are you suggesting?"

"Just grab your bag and come with me."

"Last time you told me to come with you, you lead me into trying on tons of dresses and you buying all of this," she held her bag up.

"But I told you, I don't mind spoiling pretty girls."

"Shut up! Now where are we going?"

He smirked again, "Just follow me."

She did follow, wondering what the heck this would be about. He led her down city streets, down dark alleys (which she stayed close to him in), up stairs, down stairs, across a park or two, somewhere…

"Darian, I'm getting tired and sore."

He stopped abruptly and turned to her. "We are almost there. I'll help you back to your hotel, I promise. Just trust me."

"Oh," she sighed, "Fine then, if we are almost there."

True to his word, he stopped after climbing a set of stairs onto a roof within ten minutes. They had to be at least six stories up, the way the building was set, and the stairs were. Behind him, she about fell over, if he hadn't moved quickly to help her stand.

"It's… its beautiful…" she gasped in breaths. The sight she saw, how everything was. It was late, and lights were shining so brightly. You could see for a long way off, even at this height. The stars twinkled in the night sky, seeming to reflect the simmering lights of the city. There was a park before them, filled with blossoming trees and fireflies beaming their small lights throughout the entire park.

"Isn't it?" he smiled, but he wasn't looking out at the landscape, he was looking… looking at her. When she realized this, she returned his glance. For the first time ever since she saw him that night at the club, he was truly smiling, his eyes not so stormy cold pools of grey.

"Darian," she whispered.

"Hmm?"

She looked away at the park below them, pushing a thought out of her mind. "I need to go to the hotel."

Literally, she felt him frown. "Alright, come along," he helped her down the stairs and down a few roads to her hotel, all the way up to her room.

"Remember what I said earlier."

"About what?"

"About the potion, don't take it tonight."

"Oh, yes, I won't."

"But go to bed right away."

"Okay," she muttered, feeling like a child again.

"I won't see you tomorrow, due to some business. Relax tomorrow, I've worn you out today, haven't I?" he chuckled. "So rest, and then the day after, you'll have to prepare for the dinner and ball."

"Yes, yes, I know. Good-night to you, and thank you so much."

"Good-night, and thank you," he waved as he went down the hall to the elevator, but she would swear to this day she heard a pop as if someone Disapparated, before she heard an elevator ding.


	7. Chapter 7

**Note:** After this chapter, only three more to go! We're almost there!

_

* * *

Pale, silvery eyes… they stared at her from a darkness so thick she couldn't see fingers pressed against her face. They never blinked, never… but they shifted to and fro, as if searching… she could never put a face to them—never would she. But she heard cold laughter, the rustle of a cloak, and a bright light shone. Nothing could be seen in the strands of light—nothing. Then a high pitched scream sounded…_

She awoke, finding that it was she who had screamed from out of the dream. Her breathing was harsh, and she was sweating cold trickling ice. There was no one but her there, not even her companions in the next room awoke and pounded on the wall or the door. Were they there?

Turning and turning, she tried to sleep once more, but failed miserably. Sun rays crept through the blinds on her windows, telling her it was morning now. "I must get up, and not think about it," she told herself. "I will relax today. A bubble bath sounds nice and cozy… maybe read a book. I hope the boys won't mind."

Getting up, she slipped on her robe and unlocked her door and slid over to the boy's door. Knocking twice, the door creaked open. "Uh, boys?" she called in the room, opening the door.

There they were, sleeping still, one on the others bed, the other on the floor—both sprawled and drunk.

"Idiots," she shook her head. Starting to rummage through their things, just to make sure they weren't robbed, she discovered they were low on cash and there was a bottle of pills spilling into a suitcase. She turned around, hearing a groan.

"Wake up you two! I swear to Merlin you two are the biggest disappointments I've ever seen."

"Oi," the red-head cried. "We were just havin' a bit of fun."

"Clubbing and prostitute fun! I can't believe you two! I was supposed to come to relax and you two just screw it up! BOYS!" she yelled, enraged.

The raven-haired boy squinted and held his head. "No, it's not like that. We were just clubbing, getting a bit tipsy actually."

"Three nights have we been here, and two of those you both got drunk."

"The second night we were here, we were bored from sightseeing and went to have some fun. Last night, it was your fault. You were gone all day. It doesn't take that long to shop!"

"No, it doesn't take that long to shop."

"Then why in Merlin's name were you out all day?"

"I met up with someone, and we spent the day together."

"Who?"

"His name is Darian—and oh, tomorrow night I will be attending a dinner and ball with him. That is why I was out late last night, we were picking out a gown for me, and then we went out for dinner afterwards. Today, my plan is too relax and do nothing major. Neither of you are too go clubbing or I will send you both home. This is my vacation, and it'll stay that way!" she huffed, leaving their room and the door wide open. Slipping back into her room, she turned warm water on in the bath. Adding bubbles, she let it fill to a reasonable height, shut the water off, pulled her hair back into a bun, and stripped of her clothing, settling down into the warm water.

She tilted her head back against the edge of the tub and wall, sighing. After soaking for a few minutes, the water was quite welcoming and comfortable. But she noticed, after thinking for a while—she didn't have a headache! Oh thank you Darian for that suggestion! She was so content, so fine… she told herself that she wouldn't need that silly potion any longer.

Laughter came from her lips by the time she let the water drain from the tub, and, wrapping a towel around her saturated body, stepped from the tub.

-&-

The rest of that day she laid around, reading from her newest book she had bought not to long ago. It was a surprise to her that she hadn't finished it already. Occasionally, she would leave her room, evading the boy's room, and head down to the lobby of the hotel to get something light to eat from their brunch room. After finishing up a chapter of the book, she glanced at the clock; it was about four-thirty now. Sighing, she put her book away and spread out on her bed.

"What to do, what to do…" but there was a knock on her door. She sat up, and blinked, "Come in."

"Hey, we're sorry," it was the boys.

"No big deal, just no more clubbing on this trip."

"But…"

"No stinking 'buts.'"

"Fine," they grumbled, coming into her room and sitting on her bed with her.

Yawning, she laid back on her pillows.

"Have you been sleeping well?"

"Well…" they didn't know she hadn't taken her potion last night, and planning on not taking it tonight. "Yes I have, you have no need to worry," she glanced at the two boys. But she sat up, taking each a hand from either boy, and holding them in hers. "It's too late in the day now, to do much. Let's just rest, shall we?"

"What's gotten into you?"

"Nothing, can't a girl chat with her friends?"

"Yeah, she can," but both of them unclasped their hands from her.

"You two are my friends, right?"

"Of course we are, why do you ask?"

"I'm just wondering… wondering about something, but don't ask about it, I won't tell you. I swear I won't."

The nodded, not asking. The three sat there for a good long time before one of them glanced at the clock; six p.m. it shown. What could they do for so long before bed? And why did she have to demand they not go clubbing? It was her vacation, but couldn't they have a little fun? Too much fun; that is what she would call it.

And who was this Darian guy? By the sounds of it, he was spoiling their friend with the dress, dinner, and ball. Spending the whole day with him and not them! It was her fault they had been clubbing—how could she punish them!

The night wore on, as each grew sleepier and sleepier. Yawning increased, uncomfortable movement began, aching bodies yearned for soft beds…

"Hey, we're going to get to bed. You too, don't forget your potion."

"'Kay, good-night," she waved them off as they shut her door, and she quickly did her nightly routine—skipping the potion part. Instead, she slipped right into bed after brushing her teeth, feeling drowsy already.

"Ooh, tomorrow. I can not wait to wear that dress!" she sighed, smiling over at her closet, where she knew the silk outfit hung neatly—wrinkleless and beautiful as ever.

"Tomorrow… tomorrow I will be on top of the world."


	8. Chapter 8

-clears throat- Almost to the eeeennnnndddd. Aren't 'choo excited?  
Thanks for the reviews.

**Dirty Tricks**

* * *

That night she dreamt of parties, dances, laughter, and dinners—nothing horrible came. She pictured herself dressed in nothing but silk and pearls, dancing with fine gentlemen, and being awed by the ladies. She _was_ on top of the world. 

But her dream ended so soon, as there was a knocking on her door.

"Excuse me, madam, but these have just arrived for you," the attendant announced when she opened the door.

"Huh?"

A bouquet of thorn less red roses was handed to her, attached was a card. But before she could question the attendant, he had disappeared down the hall. Closing her door, she walked slowly over to her dresser. She set the flowers down, and pulled off the card, which read;

_Miss Grayham,_

_Hope you have had two nights well. I am truly sorry I kept you all night the other day, were your friends worried? I do hope not._

_I do also wonder if my suggestion on your 'medicine' has worked. If it hasn't, continue with your proceedings, but I do wonder…_

_On another note, I hope you enjoy these beautiful roses for a beautiful young lady. The dinner starts at eight, so I will be there to pick you up at seven-thirty, no earlier, no later._

_- Mister Malton._

The note made her laugh, how sincere he sounded! But she knew he could only be joking—the way she had come to know him. Handling the roses with care, she filled her sink with water and set them in until a vase appeared from no where on the counter top. Smiling, she filled the vase up about three-fourths of a way, and set the flowers in there instead. After doing so, she set them on her nightstand and studied them for a bit. Knowing these wouldn't die anytime soon, she'd cherish them for quite much longer.

The whole day she pampered herself—taking a shower, but then soaking in a bubbly bath, lathering her skin was softening lotion, brushing her curls into a softer, less curly hair style. So afraid was she to touch the dress, to even mess it up once, she let it hang where she had set it that morning.

But it was still so early! Biting her nails, she suddenly stops. Her nails! She would have to paint her nails. But what color? What would match her green dress? Definitely not red, from the sounds of it, Darian detested red. Blue wouldn't even match! Black seemed to… well, too 'blah.' It was now between an ivory white and silver. Hmm… Silver seemed better, so she cleansed her nails, shortened them a little, buffed, and softened them up a little before applying the first coat of silver, then another after they dried, then a clear coat to make them shine. Not to bad of a job, her nails, that is, when she wasn't professional or anything.

The time rolled on, she felt edgy, nervous, and slightly sick… Oh pray do hope that the sickness if just from being nervous. She did not want another scene like that morning which seemed so long ago now. This was going to be her night!

Six-thirty rolled around, and she applied her make-up, still refusing to touch the dress until seven. But then seven o' clock rolled around, and she couldn't hesitate any longer. Taking it down from the hanger, she slipped it over her arm and then laid it carefully on the bed.

"Oh, oh," she whispered, retrieving the shoes and accessories from the closet, also. She stared at the silk beneath her fingers for a moment before slipping it on. It felt more secure than the first time she had tried it on—odd, she couldn't have grown that fast. It couldn't have shrunk, ridiculous! Hmm, maybe she was just imagining it. But as she studied herself in the mirror for moments, turning this way and that, she noticed a dreadful, embarrassing thing.

Her panty line was showing.

"Oh no," she bit her lip, narrowing her eyebrows. "How can I go out, now? I'd be embarrassed beyond belief! But, there is one way…" she thought on this. If someone found out, would they think her a slut for wearing no underwear? Oh, Merlin, please no! But, against all odds, she decided to go commando, hoping that no one would find out—not even some random stranger.

It was just her body, the dress, the shoes, and accessories. Oh how she felt so dirty for not wearing underclothes.

But grabbing her little silver handbag, with her cardkey, some money, and other little things inside, she left her room, said good-night to her friends, and left for the lobby where Darian would be in a few minutes.

-&-

"You look astonishing tonight," a voice behind her said.

She turned, smiling, "Why thank you," dipping into a small curtsey. "And you, yourself." Darian's attire was a black suit, a crisp green oxford shirt underneath, and a silver tie. "And you just had to match me, didn't you?" she laughed.

"Oh yes, to make sure no one would catch you."

Perking a brow at him, she took his out stretched hand that would lead her into the night—the beginning of what was to come.

There was a limo waiting outside, a long, black limousine! Oh! The inside was adorned with green and silver—how queer. 'Did Darian have this set?' she wondered. Sliding down into the limousine on his hand, she set down in the cushiony leather, Darian slipping in beside her.

Once the door shut, they were off down the street, heading for some place.

"Where is this at, anyway?" she asked.

"At the old Victorian Mansion they use for dinners and parties only."

"Sounds exciting."

"Maybe for you."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

Sighing, he resolved into a plain, "Nothing."

"Oh no, tell me, Darian!"

"It's nothing, Hannah. I was just thinking of something. Something highly important—but I can not speak of it. Please do not bother yourself with my dealings."

"Well…alright," she sighed, looking out the tinted window to the street.

The rest of the way was silence, so unbearable it was that she could have cried. Thankful that the car stopped for good and the door opened to let them out by the driver. First, Darian got out, and handed Hannah out. He locked arms with her, leading her up the walk to the house. But as she glanced around—to the gardens, the house, and then her glance rested on his face. It was like stone—what was wrong? His jaw was set, his silvery orbs cold, and a frown upon his face.

Tonight was supposed to be enjoyable, not troubling. She made a plan, to force whatever was troubling him out of his mind into her. She would have to get him to tell her, maybe she could help… maybe.


	9. Chapter 9

Yeah, so, this is the first part of the end. It's the end of the beginning! The real end will be given soon, promise.

The reviews I have now are nice, and more reviews are even nicer.

**Dirty Tricks**

* * *

Aside from the fact that it looked as if Darian was struggling to enjoy himself, she did have quite a lovely time. She danced, laughed, had a few alcoholic drinks, tried foods she had never had before—oh what a night!

The dancing….it was… old fashioned, really. There was no modern style dancing, and she wondered how she knew how to dance like this. Once when she stopped to rest her beating heart, a strange man came up to her and asked her to dance with him. She cast a glance to Darian, to see if she had his permission, when she realized, she didn't need his permission and went out to dance.

But that was one giant mistake. One, the man wanted to dance with her all night. Two, sometime during the second dance she was having with this man, she saw, out of the corner of her eye, Darian with some pretty little girl about her age. So, excusing herself from this man right there on the dance floor, she left the building in a hurry.

"Oh that boy, I swear," she muttered angrily, as she started to walk away from the home, out in the gardens. "I just can't believe him!"

"Who can't you believe?" someone said behind her, making her start and turn around.

"Merlin, Darian! You. I can't believe you! I saw you with that girl."

"And I saw you with that man," he seemed angry. Had that upset him?

"But I'm free to dance with anyone!"

"I am too," he cast a frightening glance at her, before he turned and started back for the house.

"Wait, Darian, wait!" she cried. "I didn't mean it like that, wait!" she caught up with him, and turned him around.

"Then what did you mean?"

"Well, by the sounds of it, this isn't your first time at this kind of thing. I wanted to enjoy myself tonight, but your grumpy attitude is going to ruin it!"

"Well, what? Do you want me to fake a laugh or two, smile, and flirt with the pretty ladies? I'm sure one of them would be glad to be here with me!"

"I am glad to be here with you!"

"As if you act like it!" she realized, he was right.

"Just tell me what is wrong; you've been like this since you picked me up tonight."

"I don't want to bother you with my problems."

"But I want to be bothered with them! Maybe I could help."

He caught her arms, and tightly held onto her, sure to leave a mark. Looking her right in the eyes, he muttered angrily. "There is nothing—nothing!—you can do to help me."

"Why not?" she cried, tears forming in her eyes.

He let go of her and he stepped away. "I told you… I can't tell you."

"Damn that! Just tell me, please. I couldn't rest easy anymore knowing there was something wrong," all of this made her sick, and just minutes ago she was so upset! Now she was pleading to know what was wrong? Oh… this night had gone horrible, since she agreed to dance with that man.

Breathing heavily, he shook his head. "Come, let us forget this and dance for now."

Her eyes narrowed in sorrow. How could he just say something like that? Tears slid down her cheeks, "Darian…" she whispered.

He turned around again to face her, "Hannah," he soothed, embracing her. "Please, don't cry. It will be okay."

"No, don't touch me!" she escaped from his grasp and backed away. "It won't be okay. I want to go back to the hotel, now."

"Hannah, listen to me, if you leave now, you may never see me again."

She gave him a sharp glance, her hair seeming to be crackling with electricity, "I said I want to go back to the hotel," as she made her way to the limousine.

He followed her, knowing the limo wouldn't leave without him. They both slipped into the limo, and he told them to take off to the hotel. The entire ride was silent, but she cast a glance to a clock, it flashed; 11:45.

The drive felt longer than ever, maybe because the passengers were irritated, but when they passed her hotel, she turned, and called to the driver. "You passed the hotel!"

"We're not going to your hotel."

She cast Darian an irate glance, "What?"

"You're coming to my hotel, so we can talk."

"We could have done that in mine!"

"You would've shut me out."

"True," she replied. Sighing, she set back; maybe he'd tell her what was wrong, anyway.

They pulled up to the fanciest hotel in town in minutes, and when he got out, to hand her out, she refused his hand and stepped out on her own accord. He led her into the lobby, past the receptionist's desk, where, when she cast a glance to the girls behind the desk, they were staring at Darian, giggling, and pointing to her.

What the…

She was shoved into the elevator, and he pressed the top most button—the top floor. The ride to the top was quiet, and when she stepped out… it was different. The entire floor was quiet, clean, and it felt different. There weren't as many rooms.

"This is my floor, for your information."

"You rented out an entire floor?"

"No, I own this hotel, and this is where I stay when I am in town."

"No joke," she grumbled.

Leading her into a room near the middle of the hall, she was astonished by the looks of it. The wood was all stained dark, with black leather seats, trimmed in silver and green. Everything seemed to be green and silver.

"This is absurd. There is no way you could have had everything set to green and silver to match me. You had no idea."

"Green, silver, and black have been my favorite colors my entire life."

"Why?"

"Because they are the colors of the Slytherin House."

She gasped, turning to him, "What?"

"Don't play the fool with me. I've known since the night at the club you were a witch. You should have guessed I was a wizard."

"But… we are around the same age…I would have known you."

"Yes, that would be true."

"Then how come I've never seen you?"

"Because, my dear, we are lying."

"We?"

"Yes, we."

A silence passed between them, and she turned away from him, ashamed. "Are you…" she cleared her throat, "Going to tell me what happened today?"

"No," he stepped nearer to her.

"Then why did you bring me to here?"

"To talk."

"That was established, already. What did you want to talk about?"

"Nothing in particular."

"I'm leaving!" she turned and headed for the door, but before she could reach the door, he grabbed her arm and spun her around to face him.

"You can't leave. That door is shut, locked, and only I can open it. No spell can open it, and you can not Apparate out of this room. And," he took her handbag, "You will not need this, seeing as I know your wand is in here."

She gasped; what was he doing? How could he do this? Why….?

Slowly, he embraced her around her middle, pulling her body close to his, "And even if I told you, you'd be horrified, and would never want to see me again—I could never stand that."

"Why must you be so intriguing? You must tell me, I won't be upset."

"You aren't a pureblood, are you?"

Opening her mouth slightly, she tried pushing him away; no, she was not—but she wasn't about to say that.

"I know you are not. That you don't approve of Death Eaters."

"You're a Death Eater!" she cried, struggling against him.

He let her go, "No I am not. I detest Death Eaters, all of them."

"Then why do you ask?" she stood askew, narrowing her eyes, and letting her arms fall limp again.

"Because my father, who is one, wants me to continue his course—he can not be with Voldemort any longer, seeing as he is still in Azkaban. I've been able to avoid him for so long, but he is angry, and he is forcing me into the position."

"Your father is doing this to you?"

"Yes," Darian looked away, sighing, and his hands clenching into fists.

"But you don't want to be a Death Eater?"

"No, I told you I detest them."

"Why were you so worried to tell me this?"

"It's not all that is bothering me."

"What else is?"

"My identity."

"Your identity?" she questioned, completely confused.

Slowly, he sat down on the bed, indicating that she do the same, which she did. They spoke no words, as he held her hands in his, caressing them. Occasionally he looked up to her, always a smirk on his face.

It seemed forever until he bent towards her, his breath hot on her lips; "Hannah, my lying doll, you and I—we are not who we say we are," he whispered against them, before catching hers with his own.


	10. Chapter 10

**_PLEASE READ ENTIRE NOTE:_**

Here it is. What you've all been waiting for...  
But before we get there, let me thank all of the reviewers at this point:  
going from the first review

**Wol:** Yeah it was a first chapter... and thanks!

**devil's poodle:** Thanks for all the reviews, you are much thanked!

**Tomo Star:** Maaaybe. You'll find out. Thanks for the review!

**Aurum Potestas Est:** Thank you SO much for all the reviews! I know you've stuck through and greatly want this end. So here you go.

**MelaminEstel:** Thank you, also, for the many reviews. I know you, too, have wanted this end, and as I said to Aurumn Potestas Est: Here you go.

**Katie:** You flippin' loser. Ima going to hurt you THROUGH MSN! -bashbash-

**Queen-of-the-World:** Thank you, and uh... yeah. Glad you found it!

**Silky Satin:** Well thank you, I greatly appreciate you liking my story. -smile- Here's that update.

**Flower Power:** Uhmm... here you go! And thanks for the reviiieew.

Okay, I need to say _sorry_, too. Because when I wrote this, it was within one week. Actually, my spring break like months ago, and now it's the ending. So it's been all whooaaa. I had to reread this story like ... a lot. And some of the things in the beginning chapters are messed up, but I'm glad so many people liked it. And now, I'm kind of glad it's over.

But, I thank you all again for reviewing and sticking through the end, wether you are a new comer or an oldie to this story. Love you all. -hearts-

Now.

Here you go:

**Dirty Tricks**

* * *

So… so exhilarating was that kiss, which she could not pull away from, she felt weak (Thank Merlin she was sitting!). However he learnt how to kiss, bless it!

In moments she was laying down on the silk, his body weight pressing against her softly, while being passionately kissed. Her hands found their way under his suit jacket, pulling it off, then undoing his tie, unbuttoning some buttons, while his hand slid up her thigh only to be completely surprised she didn't have panties on—this whole time their lips stayed locked (for the most part, anyway, their mouths were in contact, just put it that way).

Some where in there, all of their clothing was strewn unknowingly everywhere around the bed, as, each in turn, had their own ecstasy—before their bodies were one and they collapsed, tired, soaking in perspiration sometime later.

Neither had ever had this great of sex—especially her, because, she never had sex before. Later on, when she would try and get over her anger, she'd say; "Wow. The first time—it really was the best." But now—how exhausting she felt!

So, excuse her, because she couldn't help it, but she fell asleep in his arms.

-&-

In later hours of the day, somewhere around noon or so, Hannah—as you've come to know her, awoke tiredly. She did not open her eyes, but stirred restlessly. Her hands groped the bed on either side of her, finding nothing, there was no one there. Her eyes opened, just to make sure—there was on one there. She sat up so quickly, she thought she'd go right over, but she steadied herself, pulling the blankets over her naked body.

There was no one there, and this was not a dream.

Tears slid down her cheeks, as her friends words that was so long ago came back to her; "Stop brooding, he was just another man-whore…" which made her sob. He wouldn't—he couldn't!

She fell back against the pillows, crying, when she saw a note stuck onto the headboard, she pulled it off, trying to clear her eyes, while sitting up again, she read:

_My darling Hannah—or should I say Miss Hermione Granger?--,_

_As I told you last night, you wouldn't see me again after what would have been last night._

_I also told you that my father was in Azkaban, and wanted me to be a Death Eater—so he would do anything possible to make me one. Well, recently, he escaped from Azkaban due to the dementors rebelling against the Ministry—again._

_But shouldn't you, the brightest witch of our age, know this? I guessed your real identity the day we met up, I bought that splendid dress for you, and you agreed to attend the dinner and ball with me._

_Did you even try to guess mine? "Darian Malton," what kind of name is that? Well, I did come up with it, so shouldn't bother asking._

_I'm sorry, my darling Granger, that I must leave now—right when you decided to be, excuse me of what you call me, a 'man-whore's' girl. When my father is back in Azkaban, or rather much killed and six-feet-under, maybe I could see you again. But if I am forced into a Death Eater's role, I could never—never!—see you again, unless I'm about to kill you. But do not worry, Granger, I would never hurt you. I could never let anyone hurt you._

_As I told you the night we met in the club, I was so jealous of Krum when you attend with him to the Yule Ball. Every boy was, and every girl was jealous of you. Maybe when Slytherin and Gryffindor get along, everyone can get along. Don't be so infuriated when you figure who I am—unless you have already, and I do hope you have by now. You should have known all along. How could you not notice an old school enemy, who has been infatuated with you for the longest time? Oh look at me; I'm smirking while I write these words._

_But I must close now, for I fear you may awaken anytime—and I do not wish to be here when you do._

_D. M. (Darian Malton, ha! as if.)_

_P.S. I got up your skirt, love._

The note fell onto the silk sheets, she was so stunned. The initials ran over and over in her mind: D. M. - D. M. – D. M. – Draco Malfoy.

"Oh, gods," her eyes widened in horror, "Oh, oh, oh no!" Shocked, afraid, angry-beyond-belief, and caring all at the same time. Shocked, because she had no idea of who he really was—he didn't seem familiar one bit. Afraid more for him than her, because of Lucius Malfoy, the Death Eaters, and Voldemort were all terrible. Angry-beyond-belief, because he was such a jerk! Caring, because… because, well, how could one not have feelings for someone after what they had experienced?

She had been found out, without her knowing, and how dumb she felt not knowing who he was. "Oh, Draco Malfoy," she muttered against his pillows, after lying back down, "I shall hate you, and love you, forever."


End file.
